Blog – Page 4 – Peterson-DeFreese Filmshttp://www.sampofilms.com
Sampo FilmsThu, 23 Aug 2018 17:26:23 +0000en-UShourly1https://wordpress.org/?v=4.9.10more clumsinesshttp://www.sampofilms.com/blog/more-clumsiness/
http://www.sampofilms.com/blog/more-clumsiness/#respondWed, 09 Dec 2009 22:55:05 +0000http://www.sampofilms.com/blog/?p=268When things get in my way, I generally am not one to exclaim such woe is me laments as “When it rains, it pours,” “Great, now what?” or “Why Vishnu! Tell me why the world is against me?” Of course I am guilty of unleashing a healthy dosage of expletives and inventive adverbs while hastily making mistakes and stumbling during say, my rush to get ready while late for work or realize a can of lip balm has gone through my dryer load of clothes, but those are childish outbursts of anger directed at inanimate objects and not situations. Besides, that turd-nugget of a stool shouldn’t have gotten in my way.

Typically I’ve been known to become incredibly stubborn and fix the problem myself however I can. Especially while making a film. When a computer just up and died during the first week of editing my new film and I was flat broke, I found one I could use in it’s place. It was far away and not available at convenient times but it beat editing with pen and paper (Vertov claimed to have done this when he ran out of film, or rather, the funds for more film). When a deadline became imminently closer than I expected it, I was in the middle of trying to start color grading though a generous offer of a place in town. Unfortunately, freebies don’t tend to have schedules. Realizing I only had a few weeks, I bought a book and learned how to do it myself. I’ve built processing tanks, tripods, funky infrared remote control switches when I had to film myself, fixed cameras, and taught myself things I never thought I’d need to know (or wanted to for that matter). Once, while editing “yellow” I had to write a perl script to reverse-online my workprint to my unedited video transfer. Now, I NEVER thought my day job skills would be handy in my film moonlighting endeavors. I imagine the only thing I haven’t done yet would be to buy rolls of 70mm raw stock, spline them and perforate my own 16mm film. Speaking of which, those perforaters should run pretty cheap on eBay these days. Hmmm…

The point isn’t that I do it better in these scenarios, but that sometimes it’s the only option because a) you have no money, b) often only you truly care about your film, c) you don’t want to take advantage of people and d) you make points too often using lettered lists. I’ve usually just accepted this as ‘how it is.’ I’m sure most people do. However, lately you’ve really been pushing it, fake-god I blame during times when I don’t want to take responsibility for something. This happened last week:

Broken clavicle. I’m fine and it’ll heal, but: Really? You want me to finish my film with one arm? Well, shit yeah I’m going to do it either way so I guess you do. Just don’t expect a Christmas card from me this year as you are so off that list.

Really though: check back here soon and I promise they’ll be all sorts of updates and details about the new film it’ll make you forget this bitter blog post. By the way, I really appreciate everyone’s concern and good vibes about the accident. So many people want to cook meals for me and give me their seat on the bus and that’s just super!

Oh, and please come have a bike ride with me once I am finally able to grab a pair of handlebars again…

xo,

n

]]>http://www.sampofilms.com/blog/more-clumsiness/feed/0shhhh, i’m making art…http://www.sampofilms.com/blog/shhhh-im-making-art/
http://www.sampofilms.com/blog/shhhh-im-making-art/#respondWed, 21 Oct 2009 22:11:01 +0000http://www.sampofilms.com/blog/?p=222Wherein, it is noted, that there is a lack of film movements for our (“our” meaning Caucasian heterosexuals-who-considers-themselves-homosexual-to-sound-inclusive-amongst-friends working professional aged 22-32) generation and, it is lamented, there is an egregious deficiency of regional film identity showcasing our hometown: I present a blogifesto for the inception and execution of a new breed in shoe gazing cinema: whispercore.

The whispercore movement. Can you hear it?

Imagine your standard indie-rom-com-local-festival-darling feature film. It’s fun, wholesome and endearing entertainment for the whole family; of people who made it. What are its most common facets? How much was it made for? How much do people talk it in? Are they talking about themselves? Do they have problems with life? Will they get laid? Did they make it for free? How much did they spend? Do people talk? Can all this justify attention, possible fame and hats with logos on them? All important topics to consider, surely.

First, let’s discuss talking. Verbal exchanges, chit-chat, mumbly bumbly, opening your mouth to make non-grunting sounds, shooting the shit. We all do it. We expect the films we see to rely on it to hold our attention and make us do things like laugh, gasp and shout Areseno Hall audience-like expressions at the screen. It’s community at its best.

However, what if that talking was replaced with melancholy sighs, longing looks and a brooding crestfallenness? What if, instead of talking, people just WERE? You know, like real and stuff. What would happen if moviemakers took their average scene of impeccably clever jibber-jaber over casual drug use like this:

…and instead shot it through the magic of whisperscope:

Art. That’s what. Now, I believe the reaction of audiences town-wide would be two-fold:

People aren’t talking; therefore I can make more ruminative “hmmm” sounds indicating how much I “get” it and I want everyone to know this.

I support local filmmaking.

I take it I can’t ask for my money back because the filmmaker is in the audience, right?

Check is in the mail you say? Sounds more like pennies in heaven to me.

Now, I bet your wondering “how does one make a whispercore film?” Simple. Do what is already being done: don’t write a script. Next, buy a $1500 digital SLR and set it to movie mode. Still with me? Good. Instruct your cast to walk around (without bumping into each other) and act depressed. Slap some sparse acoustic folk revival music (or if your friend owns a guitar just record him in his bedroom), on that modern mutoscope and get into as many small town film festivals as you humanly can. It worked for me, and I should know because I’m a millionaire (at least according to this Seattle Times article: http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/pacificnw/2004431643_pacificportlandfilm25.html).

Look at this. I mean, what the shit? I’ve been henpecked by this camera for almost 10 years now.

Sometimes I wonder why I ever got hitched to it. I guess when you get out of college you end up falling in love with the camera you are with at the time and before you know it you are sending out screening invites, double zip-locking short ends for the fridge at 3 in the morning and watching the other cameras in the neighborhood courting yours. It’s such a bittersweet and captivating moment that you tend to overlook those little imperfections and flaws that any loving parent is blind to.

Here’s one to get the confound-a-casserole started: the magazines that hold the film fall off when you pick the camera up by that top handle. Yeah. I’m not making this up. They fall. Off. Apparently Éclair never got the latch strong enough to hold a full 400 foot loaded magazine properly. Now, to be fair it doesn’t fall off easily or all the time, but I shouldn’t have to stick one of these:

–under the latch to keep it attached. Right? Wasn’t this ever field tested? They made three separate iterations of the camera and yet some tech is thinking:

Tech1: “You know we made a good camera. A great camera, really. I’m proud of my work on this device! It’ll probably be shooting some artsy films 40 years from now, 5,000 miles from this shop. It will see things I probably couldn’t imagine and spur some young boy’s dreams to do more with his life than stay inside all day trying to get the hammer in Zelda 2.”

Or maybe they all joked about how they should have shipped the camera with free clothespins instead. Either way I am still eating this shit sandwich every time I go to run the camera and wonder why the film is not advancing. Oh yeah! I forgot to cram something behind the latch which is supposed to work. Silly me. I heard they eventually fixed this problem with later models but then they went bankrupt. Coincidence?

The designers of this ‘cat on a shoulder‘ camera also put some odd features into the design. Like this little behind the lens filter tray:

They want me to put 32 cent gel filters back where the image is at its sharpest? Philippe was smoking something. Something crack-related. Then there is this suitcase for carrying the camera:

Wow. I wish I flew more so I could have an excuse to use this as a carry-on. “Stop that plane! I am late for my cinema-verite scene!”

The body of this thing is a freak show. I do love it, but man it’s harboring some sort of Braun bastard-child design concepts. I like how compact and lightweight it is and how everything is interchangeable as well as easily serviceable. However, there is one problem I have with how cramped the mechanics are: they can be LOUD. I had a barney made for the camera back when I started recording sound (sometime after I stopped foolishly processing my own film, perhaps that will warrant another nerd-off blog posting?) and it does a good job of quieting the camera overall. However, for some reason the damn shutter wheel sometimes rubs against the mirror.

Oh, by the way: that’s right, the mirror is separate from the shutter. Every other film camera in known existence has a (quiet) mirror attached to the shutter or a reflex prism block. For some reason Agusti, Coma and Jacques Lecoeur decided to make this really funny pendulum mirror doohicky that swings back and forth between every exposure. 24 times a second. The pendulum is REALLLY close to the shutter wheel which is REALLLY close to the aperture gate. For some reason the shutter wheel tends to warp on its own (maybe I should stop using my camera for soccer practice during the off-filming season?), which in turn can scrape against the mirror pendulum. This sucks. Not even the barney is much help to this horrific rattling sound. Here’s a visual representation of this whole glorious mess:

At first, I just accepted that this noise was normal mostly because this image makes my head hurt. To compensate I simply wrote in someone machine sewing a pair of jeans in every one of my scenes. I started getting sick of making documentaries about sweat shop labor and remakes of ‘Norma Rae’ so I knew I had to do something. I had Bernie O’Doherty service it and it was reaaal quiet. I was impressed. Several years back it started doing it again. As luck had it, he was in town and I asked him what he did. To my surprise, he said: ‘here let me show you.’ It involved cracking open the camera, getting to the shutter wheel and carefully pressing it with your fingers until it was back to being flat again.

He told me these cameras were funny things that needed individual care and attention. None was identical and each was hand adjusted by Éclair techs back in the day. It was then that I felt like I knew my child for the first time. All those years of verbal (and sometimes physical) abuse and neglect must have caused it to get all out of alignment and feel inadequate with itself. So, occasionally I need to open it up and give it a little massage. It deserves it, really. A few weeks ago I gave it one (the day I started shooting my next film actually — I like things to be nerve racking just for spice). Here’s what Bernie showed me:

First, put the mirror into it’s parked position (this’ll make is easier to align it later when you put the motor back on). Then, remove these three screws from around the motor. The motor will slip right out.

That little green connector on the motor is all that connects it to the body. Next, pull the bottom off by unscrewing these three screws and lifting it off slowly:

Next, remove these eight screws from the rear. Keep them in order, some are shorter than others. The back comes off in two pieces.

There’s that f#@%*ing latch. Bloody bastard.

Once these are off, you only need to remove one screw, this one:

–and carefully pull out your camera guts from this block:

There’s that exploded diagram in the flesh. This thing is packed tighter than a mission district burrito: (Yeah. I just said that.)

So there’s that mirror pendulum and the shutter disc right beneath it. If you slowly rotate this interface here:

It will run the whole (amazing) mess. Watch and listen carefully to where the pendulum is making contact with the (flimsy) shutter disc. In my case this time it was minor. The trick that Bernie showed me was to rotate the shutter disc until the part that needs to be bent is over the groove cutout on the upper right side of the picture above. Then, you press gently on the disc into the groove. This allows you to make itsy-bitsy changes in the flatness of the disc without taking that shutter off. You just keep going around and pressing it a little bit each time, checking on each rotation to see if it is getting better. I recommend putting on a whale mating sounds CD, Yani, or whatever calms your nerves. Unfortunately, all I had at the time was the soundtrack to Eraserhead. Meh.

This whole process reminds me of truing my bicycle wheels. Except I find that more enjoyable. Once you are finished, spin the motor back to the parked position and reassemble the camera in the same order your ripped it apart.

Getting it silent on the first day was of great joy to Morgan, my right hand sound department. He went from this:

(That’s supposed to be him angry at the camera noise, but I don’t have any pictures of Morgan angry. Legend has it he has never felt such an emotion.)

To this:

“Yay! You drank lots and lots of coffee and ripped your camera apart like a crazed monkey listening to a Battles album so I can stop getting wild takes of sewing machines for your film! Thank you!”

That was pretty much what he said, anyway.

n

]]>http://www.sampofilms.com/blog/i-hate-my-fing-camera/feed/0Thriftin’ it With Nori McSushirollhttp://www.sampofilms.com/blog/thriftin-it-with-nori-mcsushiroll/
http://www.sampofilms.com/blog/thriftin-it-with-nori-mcsushiroll/#commentsThu, 05 Mar 2009 02:59:50 +0000http://www.sampofilms.com/blog/?p=120It’s taken some time, but my house is slowly becoming a vintage furniture store. I’ve recently lost track of the couch and bed frame count and I’m pretty sure that makes me eligible to be a crazed liquidation warehouse owner. Which means I can make some crazieeeee commercials and incorporate red faced screaming and a constant state of giddiness into my daily mannerisms. Yes!

I expected moving all this stuff by bike to be a cinch and so far it has been. It takes a little longer and a few items were troublesome like ‘golden slumbers’ here, a four piece sectional:

The guy on the far right is Aaron. This cat is amazing. He built that flatbed trailer himself and basically if someone in the biking community needs to move something and wants to avoid using a car he jumps at the chance to help. I’ve seen him at some Shift bike moves and he always has the most insane stuff piled on that trailer like full beds, frames, couches, heck I bet he could pull a pool table or my Steenbeck on that thing. That’s his friend Nick next to him; also a nice chap who just came along to watch and help. Notice how Mark and I (far left) are cushing it up with just the cushions. Yeah, that’s how we roll: by cheating.

Mary and I recently spotted a good deal on a dresser and desk at a great little place called Community Resale on Killingsworth and 30th:

This place has similar pricing and selection to Rerun and Village Merchants (our other favorite two spots; our favoritest spots are part of a secret loop that crosses into no mans land known as the neighborhood that I grew up in. Shhh. It’s a secret!). The best perk, though, is that they serve mimosas and beer on the weekends. Says one of the nicest resale store owners I have ever met:

“We don’t want people to feel pressured into buying anything. We just want ’em to drop by, look around for a bit, hang out and have a drink if they like.”

Nice. I can get behind this business model. Sure, they had to force me out after calling last call thrice and flicking the lights multiple times, but I DID end up buying some stuff. Oh wait. Never mind, that was me at the Nest last nite.

It was raining, so we had to wrap everything up. It ended up looking like we were moving some of Magritte’s or Man Ray’s mysterious objects around town:

Once we got ’em home, my crazieeeee assistant Nori McSushiroll looked everything over before pricing it for the floor (my living room):

(Yeah, those knobs are going, don’t worry.) Then her and I took some much needed rest on Golden Slumbers and dreamed of our old friend Johnnie, who within a few hours was already walking his way towards another meeting with us to go over the script:

I hope to be posting news of our current film-in-production up here soon (we shoot in a few months) as time permits. Things are crazy busy right now but everything has been going smoothly so far and I am as excited as an 8-year old who just received the space monorail lego set. Only it’s far more substantial an excitement and I never did get that monorail.

Currently we are in pre-production: that means hours upon hours of thrifting and scouting for set decorations/props/wardrobe. One of the unique aspects of the film is our goal to make it entirely by bike. In other words, I carved “NO CARS ALLOWED” with my pocket knife on the outside of the film’s fort since day one. Which is just as well as many of us don’t even own cars to begin with.

One thing, however, is my desire to have unique bikes for two of the lead actors that reflect their characters. I have one and am building it up, but the other has proved elusive UNTIL one fateful day on craigslist I spotted a beauty: a 70s Motobecane Super Mirage. First off, I heart Motos of this era. Sure the bottom brackets are old and unusable swiss threading, the Vitus tubing is not as nice as higher end Reynolds 531s and some people like to call ’em MotoBACONS but it’s got class baby. I mean, just look at it:

That’s what I’m talking about. Once that bag and kick stand come off this whip it will be like arriving to your blind date at Clyde Commons wearing a borrowed tweed suit from your uncle. Class AND economy. Clearly I mistook this super mirage at a super price for it’s literal namesake. And no, I am not making a pun. Turns out it is not only sitting in a garage in Vancouver collecting dust, but that that garage happens to be somewhere in Mountain View, Vancouver. Where the hell is that? And how do I get there from my home in NE Portland? By bike? Google maps?

Since the bike was not a Schwinn or Free Spirit (this should make at least one friend angry), I knew I could easily get it back using my trailer. I learned many strange and wonderful things on my fantastical journey to East Couv, but for starters the trek over the Glenn L. Jackson Memorial Bridge taught me:

It’s fun.

There are plenty of opportunities to view natural wildlife in the area:

You get to ride in between traffic and it sounds like a combination of 8 lanes of roaring 18-wheelers, shipping boats and airplanes. Because that’s what it is:

When you encounter another biker, which is rare, they will not exchange the ordinary “hey what’s up we both ride bikes and are acknowledging each other’s presence yeah those are some sweet rims hommie okay later” nod. Instead you get the “hey welcome to the ninth circle of hell buddy, be careful. remember my face. REMEMBER MY FACE!” nod. Even a pack of club riders I ran into did this.

Once I arrived though, I noticed how nice everybody outside is. Seriously. I asked for directions and got excellent ones in return. Other times people would wander out of their open two-door garages, clearly noticing that I was an outsider, and asked if I needed any help. Nearly every one of these spic-and-span garages was open, each exposing shinny new craftsman tool sets hanging on peg boards, red shop vacs, sporting nets of all types, a second/third vehicle and usually: bikes (if only my trailer was big enough…). I wondered at first why everyone props their garages open and then I realized: pride. Heck, if my garage was as organized as that I’d take the freaking door off. Other than the people outside, people in trucks and suvs (I did not see a single car under the size of an H3 while there) just ignored you. This can be good or bad. I decided to make it good for me and just not complain.

I eventually made it to the seller’s house by following the gold strand of a rainbow directly to her doorstep. Sure enough, I could spot the majestic peak of Mount Helens from her street, so I guess the neighborhood naming association wasn’t just blowing gas up my arse. Her garage was open too. But I couldn’t tell if it was only for the possibly pending bike sale. ‘This sure seems more legit than buying bikes out of the back of a chicken truck on 92nd and Powell,’ I thought. “Hello, here’s the bike. I’m going back inside to watch the kids. Let me know if you want it.” she says to me immediately after I arrive. ‘Okay…’ I thought as I try running it through the gears noticing all the cabling needs to be replaced and that, strangely, it has a cyclometer. Wow. Bonus. I guess? Other than some work, though, it’s prefect. Not only a good bike but perfect for our leading lady. I go offer her $50 less than she posted and she takes it (I learned this trick from a good friend who told me to ‘make my money work FOR me’). The next exchange was priceless:

HER
“So, you are going to come pick it up later?”

ME
“Oh, no. I’ll take it now.”

HER
[wide-eyed]
How?

ME
On that trailer.

HER
Are you sure? I mean, how will that work?

ME
I’m just going to toss it in and tie it down like any old trailer.

HER
You are crazy. I am calling the police.

Okay I made that last part up.

I packed Goldie up (the seller came out of the house a few times to check on me and to presumably take snap shots for her ‘wall of shame’ posted next to her second freezer in the open garage) and then took off to return back to the sixth circle of hell where we keep our garages dirty and padlocked all the time:

n

]]>http://www.sampofilms.com/blog/the-quest-for-the-gold-mirage/feed/0zzzzzz…http://www.sampofilms.com/blog/zzzzzz/
http://www.sampofilms.com/blog/zzzzzz/#commentsWed, 04 Jun 2008 19:50:32 +0000http://www.sampofilms.com/blog/?p=102no updates means i forgot i had a website! i also didn’t realize people actually read this silly thing. as you can tell from this photo, i have been much too busy hiking to post obits, news about the legislation or even spend a second thinking about film:

as i wake from a 2 year slumber, i hope to be posting some updates of future projects up here very soon…

n

]]>http://www.sampofilms.com/blog/zzzzzz/feed/2bikershttp://www.sampofilms.com/blog/bikers/
http://www.sampofilms.com/blog/bikers/#respondTue, 23 Oct 2007 18:46:48 +0000http://www.sampofilms.com/blog/?p=101please be careful. especially with vehicles who make right turns. when in doubt, just stay behind in the center of the lane and wait. i want to stop seeing biking fatalities make headline news in portland:

Here’s to making them boo at Cannes: again and again. To pushing the language and exploring emotions others feared. For being grand proof that this medium can be a great art instead of mere content.

Thank you.

n

]]>http://www.sampofilms.com/blog/antonioni/feed/0outstandinghttp://www.sampofilms.com/blog/outstanding/
http://www.sampofilms.com/blog/outstanding/#respondTue, 31 Jul 2007 02:36:28 +0000http://www.sampofilms.com/blog/?p=98The NY Mayor’s Office of Film, Theater, and Broadcasting are proposing rules, to go into effect as soon as next month, that would require a permit and $1 million in liability insurance for groups of 2 or more filming for more than 30 minutes and the same for groups of 5 or more using a tripod for more than 10 minutes.

The rules are partly the result of a case involving an Indian documentary-maker, Rakesh Sharma, who was detained and questions by police while filming in midtown Manhattan.